The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-04-14

She pressed them lightly to her breast;
she buried her lips in their bloom.
..It is curious what lives people can
live together who never meet. An
tonic in his box, the Lady Rose on the
stage-they experienced all that hu-
man hearts can. | mean Antonio did
The Lady Rose had neither heart nor
experience. She was beautiful Gre
alton, a vision, Antonio said, of love
and song.
AT last she came to America, and
for time we lost her. 1t is hard to
pursue in a country so vast as this.
She allured us, and then eluded us;
had gone. or failed to keep her en-
sagements. | was very weary OF the
interminable fight, but the look in my
brothers eyes never permitted me TO
rebel.
s.We were in city of the west. |
had been i'll, and Antonio had fingered
faithfully beside me, although the
hindrance must have cost him much.
We We're driven through the open
country, and as we passed a frame,
created for the purpose, / saw the
name Of the Lady Rose. 1t was the
bills announcing her to sing that night;
and as we drove along they multi
piled, and there We're rude portraits OF
ner in the windows of the shops.
:. Imbeciles.' muttered Antonio,
who could not bear these outrages
upon art; but nevertheless, there was q
note of JOY in his voice. | was too
tired to go with him to the opera, and
anyway it was best tkat he should 90
alone. He was very handsome that
night. You have remarked that he
is SOP His eyes were brilliant and
send to the Lady Rose between the
acts, and as lie wrote the note that
accompanied it, his mans hand trem-
bled. Has it ever occurred to you
that the love of an artist is really a
terrible thing-half divine, half dia-
bolical?
He kissed me when he went away,
and | could feel the rapid beating of
his heart as it rested for moment
next to mine.
when he had gone [ lowered the
lights and tried to sleep; but | was
tortured by terrible dream. | saw a
soft, white arm arise upon sea of
light and wave a moment in the air.
There was nothing but light and the
waving arm, as far as | could see,
until at last Antonio appeared and
came across the sea to where the arm
was beckoning. 1t softly curved
about his neck and the hand lay on
his breast. But suddenly it changed
and turned hideous bronze, and
seemed to slip and lose its hold; and
the hand had turned into head with
burning eyes. Antonio struggled to
be free, but while | looked something
darted from its mouth and plunged
into his heart.
Il awoke, cold with fright, to find
Antonio in reality beside me. | sprang
to his arms und turned his white face
to the light. 1t is nothing, my child,
he said. 1T is only an artists dream.
Hast thou, too, been dreaming? And
l knew by the icy smile, the frigid lip,
that Antonio's dream was the yerifi-
cation of my own"
Carissima stopped for her fan and
leaned back lauguidly in her chair.
perhaps you think Antonio is mad.
Many people do, They do not know
what it is to suffer and to have great
imagination.
was in this apartment often in
later days, and frequently met An
tonic. Carissima's suggestion that l
might think him mad was a vain one.
a person more self-contained and ur-
bane | never saw. The odd conceits
of pansies and arbutus, which CARTS
sima was pleased to term Lady Roses
eyes and smile" took nothing from my
estimate of his sanity. May not art
wander into bypaths on its way to the
great goal? The angelic face upon
the wall was the divine fruition of his
dreams. | was subsequently led to
believe that he regarded it as the eli
max of his technique.
This was on certain evening when
he turned to me under the Moorish
lamp above it and uttered these words:
"A man never touches the hem of
the garment of art until he has broken
his heart. He should do this as
quickly as possible if he wishes to
paint or compose a s0Hatu.-EmDla
SheygC0od Chester, IN Nelc York Home
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